


if I bleed, you'll be the last to know

by lostinthesounds



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bellarke, F/M, clarke believes she’s cursed because of her wanheda legend, she thinks she creates death, sort of love confessions, tangled au!, that we all love, the fire camp scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:48:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22308931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinthesounds/pseuds/lostinthesounds
Summary: She shakes her head at the thought, and he takes notice with furrowed brows. “Why don’t you get some sleep? I’m sure I’ve been a headache since the day you met me.” She would do anything to get him away for a while.“And that was what, like two days ago?” Bellamy responded, rubbing his hands together to bask in the warmth. (She would’ve slipped the jacket from around her body to give it back, but when she dares to move, he was the one to stop her with an outstretched hand) “I’ve survived worse than this little adventure we’re on, princess.”or, a bellarke tangled one-shot
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37





	if I bleed, you'll be the last to know

**Author's Note:**

> hey everyone, this has been sitting in my google docs drafts for forever. I figured that if it's been taking me two years to try and write a tangled inspired bellarke fic, then maybe it wasn't meant to be. That doesn't mean I shouldn't post the content that I already had written, so I hope you guys enjoy! cheers to 2020, and I hope you all stick around to read my new fic next week!

“You should get some rest,” Bellamy voices his concern, leaning in closer than before as Clarke continued to get lost in the soft flames of the fire in front of her. She wraps the jacket, the one he gave her earlier after they escaped the  _ near _ fatal experience of drowning, tighter around her shoulders and stays still. She remembered how bad she was shivering, how much she was shouting at him to get back and away from her before she did something stupid.  _ Like _ let him touch her. He speaks up again, “I’ll take watch, if you want.” 

  
  


“Don’t be foolish, Blake.” She scoffed at him, only realizing that she knew his real name now and wouldn’t use it. She turns away to hide the pink blush of her cheeks, blaming the heat of the fire that’s brushing against her face. When the conversation turns silent for a few more minutes, Clarke decided to start breaking down the walls of her inner self conscious and apologize for how she’s been treating him. She should be thankful for everything he’s done for her these past few days, and she is, but she was dangerously becoming more aware of how she felt for this mere stranger beside her. 

  
  


How he respected her wishes back at Sinclair’s Pub in the mountain trail, grabbing onto her jacket instead of her hand when they had to run out of there as fast as possible. Blake, now known to her as Bellamy, was sweet and charming and undeniably clever. Maybe, it was because she had never been around a boy, a man, before..but it was more and more tempting to reach out and graze her fingers against his knuckles and remember the feel of his skin before she would pull away and recognize her mistake. Although, it would be a lifetime of pain and regret because it would mean a  _ death _ sentence for him. 

  
  


She shakes her head at the thought, and he takes notice with furrowed brows. “Why don’t you get some sleep? I’m sure I’ve been a headache since the day you met me.” She would do anything to get him away for a while. 

  
  


“And that was what, like two days ago?” Bellamy responded, rubbing his hands together to bask in the warmth of the fire. (She would’ve slipped the jacket from around her body to give it back, but when she dares to move, he was the one to stop her with an outstretched hand) “I’ve survived worse than this little adventure we’re on, princess.” 

She doesn’t make a remark on the nickname this time, even if Clarke knew it was a faulty comparison from the beginning. She didn’t have a life of serenity, almost always living in fear of hurting a stranger. Someone who would be innocent and clueless to the legend surrounding her name, who would hate her from first glance just for existing. She wasn’t dainty, but messy with paint and charcoal from her sketchbooks at home. 

  
  


“It’s not smart to be reckless around me,” Clarke mumbled, loud enough for him to hear. 

  
  


“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bellamy’s voice lowered, afraid to know the answer to one of his many questions about the blonde in front of him. Perhaps, it would finally reveal the reason as to why she was so cautious around him, around everybody they’ve come across. He leans to rest his elbows on his knees, keeping a distance between them.  _ For her. _ The beating of his heart intensifies when she raises her gaze and locks eyes with him, as he asks her another question. “Why can’t you let anybody touch you? Why do you believe you’re the only person in the world who decides the fate of survival?” It was his fault, for how her entire body froze and visibly tense under his interrogation of curiosity. 

  
  


“You’ve never heard of me?” She asks him, her mind racing with the ways that she could possibly escape from this trip without him noticing. The entire scenario, of seeing the lanterns with a complete stranger who doesn’t even know what she’s capable of, it was too dangerous for the both of them. He would be put at risk to her power, and she would rather face the consequences of running away from home than know the man beside her would be six feet under in a short time. “You must be kidding.” 

  
  


“It must be important that I know, am I right?” Bellamy argued. “Are you afraid of getting close to people? To  _ men _ in particular?”

  
  


He just had to know now. 

  
  
  


Did she have a problem with him? 

  
  


He shuffled closer to her, right when she moves away from him. 

  
  


“I’m cursed, Bellamy.” It was three words, soft spoken as if it was the worst thing to slip past her tongue. It was a weird sensation in her stomach, when her heart feels like it dropped at the sight of Bellamy biting his lip and turning away from her confession. “I didn’t want to tell you earlier because I didn’t think this trip would last longer than a day, and you don’t need to be told that you’re going to--” 

  
  


“What?” His head snaps back in her direction when she pauses, and he doesn’t think twice when kneeling in front of her and he would be close enough to tug on the ends of her—his—, jacket to keep her attention locked on him. Her stare was blank, unable to admit what she’s been holding back when he desperately wants to know. When he really just wants to get to know the girl, to understand why she’s the way she is. “What are you so afraid of, Clarke?”

  
  


“I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you died by my hand,” She takes a deep breath, leaning backwards and slowly swinging her legs over the tree log so she would stand on the opposite side of the man who’s inching his way closer into her every thought. “It would be the first death I’ve caused, and I would hate if it was you.” 

  
  


Bellamy felt as if someone punched him in the stomach, or broke the gold crown above his head and let the glass shards fall and pierce his skin. He stumbles back on the dirt, losing his balance as his jaw drops in shock. He didn’t want to believe it, how negatively she felt about herself to such a large extent. Clarke was the one to save his life multiple times in the last two days, even if she won’t admit it, but she was the person to calm down the angry bandits at the Pub and keep him on his toes when in public because he would forget the danger he was in for stealing the queen’s crown. 

  
  


“Would you kill me?” He asked, standing on his feet again. “Purposefully, I mean.” 

  
  


“It wouldn’t matter what I think, or do,” Clarke turns her back to him, stomping in the opposite direction to get her scarf that was hanging to dry on a tree nearby. “It’s for your own good and survival if you get away from me.” 

  
  


“What if I don’t want to?” Bellamy’s chest was caving with harsh intakes of oxygen into his lungs, not wanting her to disappear from his grasp. Not yet. It had been one of the most stressful yet memorable journeys of his life, finally earning the trust of someone he knows he can rely on when he’s done something that has to be done in order for him to get Octavia back. His sister was at stake, and if he gets caught with the crown, it would be the end of him. He believes his ultimate cause of death would be from a sword through the chest by a king’s guard, not by the bright light of the soul in front of him. “If you were truly cursed, then we would’ve been caught back at the Pub. If you seem to control death, the entire room would fall to their knees and fall unconscious just by your presence.” 

  
  
  


“I didn’t let them touch me, there’s a difference.” She says, the assumption that it would be a valid excuse for his truth. The puzzle pieces of her mind don’t seem to click anymore, the careful understanding of her whole existence fall apart in an instant. 

  
  


Suddenly, the words get caught in her throat of being wrong about everything. 

  
  


She could hear his footsteps get closer and closer, until she could see the front of his leather boots behind her own when she glances to the side. It was a test, to take note of how far she could be pushed before caving into her desires and hesitation she’s buried deep inside her darkest thoughts about herself:  _ What if my mother is wrong _ ? And it keeps ringing in her head like a bell until she feels she cannot breathe. 

  
  


“And if I do this?” Clarke held her breath, the trees stop whistling with the slight breeze of the night as she focuses entirely on how she tries to convince herself that the man wouldn’t be stupid, careless, reckless, _ stubborn _ \-- “Would I merely drop to my knees, with blood dripping from my lips as you twist your invisible knife of my demise into my chest?” It happened so fast, she barely had time to register the touch of his thumb and pointer finger wrapping around her wrist, squeezing lightly with pressure (it wasn’t tighter than a feather against her skin) when he hears her gasp in surprise. 

  
  


She pulls her hand away as if he burned her with the hottest oven, and watches as he stands tall with a single hand on his hip to prove his point. 

  
  


Clarke stutters with her next words, taking five seconds to stop her hands from trembling when she cradles the hand he had just grabbed and holds it to her chest. It was something she never thought would happen, and oh god, when her mother finds out--she would be the one at the stake instead. Tears filled her eyes, as she looks at him with the pain of his actions written all over her face. 

  
  


“You have no idea what you’ve just done.” 

  
  


“I just proved my stance,” Bellamy awed, not knowing why she was getting so angry. She should be happy that her life would be turned around, changed for the better. “You are not a cursed child, Clarke”

  
  


“You don’t know that,” Clarke raised her voice, stepping backwards until she bumps against a tree trunk as sobs erupt in her chest. She seemed as if she wouldn’t stop crying, knowing that she would cause his fate of passing at such a young age. Her entire life had been sculpted on the idea of being a symbol of death to society, to causing harm to people who don’t deserve to know their death would come if they caught a glimpse of her. Her mother raised her well, raised her  _ good _ enough. It hurt more than expected, to know that Bellamy didn’t believe her. “You don’t know anything about me!” 

  
  


Bellamy cautiously takes a step forward, wondering how to comfort her. It doesn’t make sense, how quickly Clarke was to shut him off when he only wanted to know and show her the truth about herself. She was the one person to make him  _ feel _ alive after years of isolation and only focusing on doing the wrong thing instead of the morally right. 

  
  


“You don’t cause death, Clarke.” His voice gentle, arms extended in front of him to let her see his intentions of keeping her from breaking down completely. He shakes away the memory of the softness of her skin from their split second of touch, and he’s already feeling himself fall hard for the mystery girl. “You’re just a girl who wanted to see the lanterns glow after years of staying in that locked tower, thinking it’s good for you. Doesn’t your heart desire adventure? That’s what you told me the first time you stepped on the grass with your bare feet.” Bellamy doesn’t know exactly what to add on to make her believe him, so he waits until she looks up at him from her sunken shoulders as she whimpers softly when he gets too close. She just didn’t want to hurt him, both of them already knowing the risk. “Please, tell me you  _ don’t _ want to live in fear forever?” 

  
  


“Fear?” Clarke argued with a swift snark in her tone, sniffling her tears. “I’m living in my  _ reality _ , Bellamy. One that I hoped wouldn’t involve the death of the first friend, first person I’ve trusted besides my mother in my entire existence.” 

  
  


He doesn’t want to be convinced that he was the biggest mistake she’s ever made. 

  
  


So, he steps back and lets her have her space as he stays a respective distance away to regain himself. He could even feel an angry set of tears begin to form in his eyes, but he blinks them away even before they had the chance to make his vision blurry. 

  
  


“You wouldn’t have the intentions to kill me,” Bellamy told her, knowing it was true in every fiber in his body. “Curse or not. You are  _ truly _ a good person, the best I’ve ever known.” 

“It’s the last thing I would ever want to do,” Clarke added immediately, eyes meeting his in the softest gaze they’ve shared all night. Her eyes narrowed, full of emotion and a look of longing for a relationship that would never be able to be mutual. She ignores his comment, along with the unusual beating of her heart when he says it, and starts to walk past him. “It would be the smartest thing to take me home tomorrow morning.” 

  
  


“Clarke, you don’t have to go.” His voice cracks towards the end, and he’s tempted to ask her to stay with him, so that once he returns the crown safely to the palace, he would still be with her. 

  
  
  


“I saw the lanterns on my birthday, and I was able to explore a little.” Clarke reminded him of the good times, as she stuffed her pockets into his jacket pockets to stop the temptation of kissing him on the cheek. She would’ve, especially if he’s already counting his days and he seemed to have a strong liking towards her as well. For the first time ever, a thought arises in the back of her head that makes her swallow a lump in her throat, as she wishes she never stepped foot out of the tower. Of her home. She wouldn’t of met Blake, or gotten to know him. “What more could I ask for, especially after disobeying my mother’s wishes.” 

  
  


Bellamy whispers, “You could ask for a life to live, one that would make you happy.” 

  
  


She’s longed for her life to be different all her life, every day. 

“I can’t.” Clarke frowns. “I don’t want to walk freely if people are at risk, I won’t put myself first after so long.” 

“I want you to put yourself first.” 

  
  


“ _ Don’t. _ ” She snapped at him, then she could feel her heart break with someone she’ll never have. “It was dangerous enough for you to touch me, knowing what I  _ cause _ . I don’t need to listen to you, not when I’ll lose you.” 

  
  


“It’s been two days since I’ve known you, Clarke.” Bellamy lets his hand hover over her elbow, centimeters from her skin like before. It was what she believed, what she wanted him to do. “And I don’t want to lose you either.” He sighs, “You don’t have to lose me.” 

  
  


He was talking about letting her trust him fully again, letting him show her that her life has been a lie. 

  
  


But, she wouldn’t. Because, it wouldn’t be safe. 

  
  


“What’s a few days’ difference going to do?” She argued back, gaze locked on how he hasn’t moved his hand from his frozen position above her elbow. 

  
  


“I’m not going to die, Clarke.” He grits his teeth, jaw locked in frustration. 

  
  


“I don’t want to be there when you’re proven wrong,” Clarke doesn’t say a word after leaving him speechless, walking past him and heading back to the campfire to lay down on the longest log and turns her back away from the flames. It was to avoid the stare of Bellamy, especially when she can hear his light footsteps as she dazed off to sleep. Her mind was clouded with doubts of her mother, the symbol of what she stands for, and if she would actually wake up to a horrific scene in front of her. 

  
  


For Bellamy, he was seconds away from asking Clarke to put his jacket back on since she left it hung over the log they had sat down before their argument. Until, he realized that she had picked the closest sleeping spot to the fire, so that she wouldn’t need his jacket. 

  
  


And it hurt more than her words did that night. 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on twitter @ejtmcrleys


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